Silver Glass
by MrsD1017
Summary: Aranel is taken prisoner by Lord Raumo for her powers. Can she be saved before something bad happens? Sorry summary stinks.
1. The Leave Taking

The Leave-Taking

'_It will be okay._' she thought. '_It has to be._' They had to come for her; wouldn't abandon her to an agonizing death. Her breathing remained rapid and shallow though. The shadows were closing in on her as the night fell and she knew that, soon, all she would see was the inky black of the night. Her heart was beating so rapidly and so violently that she feared it might erupt from her chest. Never had she been so afraid, but even now, she wouldn't accept her own fear. She was an elf. For her kind, fear did not exist; for her kind, fear was thoroughly inconvenient. So now, here she was, trapped in a filthy shit-hole with no way to escape; bleeding and broken and so very, very alone.

Finally, Aranel Toroniel gave in to the pain and the fear. The tears began to fall faster and faster down her dirt-streaked face. She had no idea how she came to be here. She vaguely recalled being smashed in the back of the head and roughly dragged away by her hair. She was pretty sure that she had been thrown in front of someone on a horse like a sack of potatoes and brought here…where ever 'here' happened to be. She screamed in frustration and pounded her fisted hands on the cold, wet wall, even though all that did was serve to increase her pounding headache and cause her hands to hurt terribly.

A man…an edhel…laughed slyly sitting in a dark corner of the cell; his hood was kept over his fair elvish skin. "That will get you nothing more than a good lashing, my lady." Erundil, for that was his name, was imprisoned solely because he secretly wed a woman, who wanted to leave the evil lord whose cell they were in. "I saw them fighting to carry you in. It took quite a few mortals to hold you down, whilst the door was opened." After a brief silence, he asked, "What did you do?" His voice was quiet at the question.

Aranel jumped slightly when she heard the voice for she hadn't been aware of the presence of another, let alone a male, in the cell. Turning, she thought she recognized him as an elf. His eyes, though difficult to see, were an odd shade of navy blue.

"If only I knew," she stated with great frustration in her voice. "I remember very little about how I came here, never mind why." After a moment of staring into the dank darkness, she said, "My name is Aranel. Why are you here?" She desperately hoped that he could enlighten her as to where she was. And she prayed to the Valar that he was not some murderer or rapist. '_Yes_,' she thought, _'that's just what I need to be caged up with. Well, maybe, just maybe, someone will come and rescue him. Then, I can get out too._' She laughed inwardly at that thought.

"Erundil. My name is Erundil." He said it as though he had not heard his name in a long while and his voice was ever so soft. He told his story to her and she felt sad that he had lost all hope of love.

Then, suddenly, a fat man with greasy black hair and a dreadful stench entered the cell and grabbed Erundil roughly by the arm. He dragged him away, despite Erundil's kicking and fighting, leaving Aranel wondering what they were going to do to the edhel.

Lindale sat in his dark cell all alone for what he thought was the seventh week in a row. He knew he was at the very back of the dungeon and that no others were around. He continued counting the stones in the wall in the dim light. He already knew how many there were; he had counted them at least forty-six times already. There were two-thousand, nine-hundred, and seventy-seven. He could hear the monotonous echo of the water dripping in from the outdoors in the corner of his cell.

Suddenly a cold wind blew through and he pulled his cold, damp cloak closer around himself. After seven weeks here, he still had no idea where he was and less as to why he was there. He hadn't heard another voice in weeks and the last one he _had_ heard came out of the fat guard who had dragged him into the cell. The man had left a rather large cut on Lindale's face that was still healing in the un-sanitary conditions.

He reached up and touched the wound, frowning when he felt the tender edges. _'It will never heal at this rate!'_ He hissed in pain and anger.

Idly, he wondered if he was alone in this place. It was doubtful though. Why have such a large dungeon if you were only going to imprison one or two people? That seemed awfully foolish to him. Besides, his elven ears picked up faint whispers and confirmed his belief that he was not alone in this hell.

Aranel sat miserable in the cell. There was now no one for her to talk to and she felt weak and ill. She shivered in her wet and filthy garments; they could not even be called a tunic and leggings any longer for they were shredded and falling off her. Suddenly, she felt a wave of nausea come over her and she knelt forward and vomited out the contents of her stomach; dry-heaving when there was nothing left in her stomach.

Shaking violently, she curled up on her side and tried to relax. Just as she was slipping into a restless sleep, though, she heard the heavy bars of the cell door creak open and felt her hair being ruthlessly pulled.

"Get up." The voice was raspy and held no choice in the command. When she didn't get up immediately, he pulled her up by her long hair. Crying out in pain, Aranel stumbled to her feet and gagged at the overwhelming scent of alcohol. The man then proceeded to drag her down the aisle and into a cold, empty room. Somehow, she knew something bad was about to occur.

After a moment, two other men, who also reeked of alcohol, entered the room. One went to the wall and pressed a well-concealed button. A part of the wall swung open to reveal what Aranel instantaneously recognized as instruments meant for torture and she began to shake almost uncontrollably. This only served to make the disgusting men laugh even more than they already were.

The next few hours were some she would never speak of to anyone. When she was

thrown, quite literally, back into her cell, she was bruised, bleeding, and barely able to move. Standing was impossible. She guessed that one of her legs was probably broken. She was bleeding rather profusely from the back of her head and one eye was swollen shut. She was struggling to breathe and knew that she had at least one broken rib. All the fingers on her left hand were causing her excruciating pain and were bent at odd angles. She wasn't alone in the cell, though. Erundil was back and, after a quick glance towards him with her good eye, she saw that his condition was almost as bad as hers. He, however, was sleeping.

Failon hummed an elvish tune softly to himself as he sat with Legolas writing a brief letter to his sister. Legolas was sprawled in a chaise next to him reading a book on weapons. He enjoyed spending time with Thranduil's sons, particularly Legolas. They had known each other since Failon was little and were always close friends, despite the great difference in years.

Out of the blue, Legolas cried out and bolted into an upright position, where he had been laying a moment before, looking as though he had just been hit with an Orc arrow. Grabbing his head in his hands, he shook himself all over as though to rid himself of a nightmare. Failon could see Legolas forcing himself to breathe deeply and calm down.

"What is it, meldiren?" Failon's voice was heavily laced with concern. He had never seen Legolas act in this manner before. "Are you ill?" As foolish as the question seemed, for everyone knew elves did not fall ill, he had to ask because the behavior he was witnessing greatly puzzled him.

"Failon, I feel pain." Legolas's voice was strained and anxious. "Terrible pain coming from relatively far." He stopped for a moment as though trying to collect his thoughts, then continued. "It seems to come from the East. I think it is Aranel." He returned his head to his hands and rested it on his pulled-up knees.

Failon looked at his severely distressed companion and put his hand on Legolas's shoulder to comfort him. "Why do you think it is Aranel?" His voice was soft and soothing. He didn't want to cause anymore stress for Legolas.

"She never came back from her last watch. Those who were out with her told me she left to patrol a little on her own and never returned to them."

"Why didn't they report it sooner?"

"They believed she probably came back here. Later on that day, Miril came back rider-less. I went to her room to see if she was perhaps there and Miril had just gotten away from the stable boys before they could un-tack her, but I found her hawk, Fairië, and her wolf, Ëala, but no Aranel. Ëala was pacing the room restlessly. That was my first hint that something was terribly wrong. Scouts were sent out to look for her, but when they returned they brought with them only her weapons. She never leaves here without her weapons!" When he stopped, he rocked himself a little and Failon encouraged him to continue.

"I have long felt pain from that way, but never this great and I can only think that she has been captured. I cannot ignore it any longer for now it disturbs my sleep and distracts me in my duties. Will you find her? Find her quickly." His voice was strained again and he was shaking slightly. "Go and bring her back to us, and any others you find that are still alive. Be careful, though, please. I couldn't bear losing my best friend too." He stopped and looked desperately at Failon, his eyes filled with fear and hope. He knew, though, that Failon would go, if only because Legolas had asked him so pleadingly.

"Why have you not gone after her, Legolas?" He knew this could be a damaging question, but it was one that needed asking.

"Because _Lord_ Raumo, as he calls himself, has been causing problems at our borders of late. Besides, he and his men would recognize me; probably even my brothers. That would surely be more trouble for her than anything else. My father has said as much as well and, in this, I must agree with him. I won't do anything that will endanger her anymore." His face fell and his impotency in the situation showed on his face.

"Relax," he said softly. "I will go. You only need tell me what you can." Failon smiled weakly at his friend.

"To the East of here. I think it is Raumo, even though Orc bolts were found near her weapons, for he has been of increasing trouble as of late." Legolas looked at his friend and let out a tiny sigh of relief.

"I will go. Just give me a little time to prepare." With that said, Failon stood and hurried to his rooms to pack the little he would need. Legolas headed for the kitchens to have some food packed for Failon's journey.

Failon ran to the stables after he had finished packing, while tying back his long chestnut hair, and quickly decided to take both his horses, Lírë and Meldi, in the event that more than one person was rescued. He tied his pack to Meldi and then tacked Lírë. Sheathing his dagger, he tied it to his left leg. He then grabbed his belt with his blade, Naira, and fastened it tightly about his waist. Taking his staff from where it was leaning, he leapt astride Lírë's ebony back. She whinnied and trotted towards the front gates where Legolas was waiting; Meldi in pursuit behind her.

When they came to the gate, Failon saw that Legolas was waiting with his brothers; all had nervous expressions upon their faces and Failon vaguely wondered why nothing had been done before to find Aranel. Legolas strapped a few days worth of rations and water to Meldi's back and then stepped away to stand with his siblings. Failon patiently awaited further instructions from his friend.

"Do you know anything at all about this place?" He looked at Legolas's face and knew that the prince felt completely inadequate at being unable to protect his adopted sister.

"I only know that it is a very dark place; hidden by the forest. If you look hard, though, you shall find it." Legolas stopped for a moment and studied his best friend's face. "No i Melain na le. Be safe and navaer." Legolas looked hopeful as did his brothers.

Turning Lírë sharply, Failon nodded and took off at a gallop due east. He worried that he would not be able to bring Aranel back alive for Raumo was known for his atrocious treatment of his prisoners. He only hoped he was not too late and quickly pushed those thoughts aside.

The evening after Aranel had been beaten, Alasseo strode quickly to the dining hall of the castle. Without so much as a knock, he entered the room and walked to the head of the table and stopped in front of its only occupant; a dark figure in a hood and robe.

"Alasseo, you have some nerve to barge in on my dinner like that." He stopped and took a bite of the roast pheasant. "You have her, correct?" It wasn't a question as much as it was a challenge.

"Yes, Raumo." No one else addressed him so informally and lived to see the light of the next morn. That was also part of his being second-in-command, though.

"Wonderful," he said in his thick, greasy voice. "Bring her to me. I would very much like to see her." Raumo smiled darkly and there was a hint of evilness in his eyes.

Alasseo turned on his heel without event a polite nod of his blonde head and left the dining hall. He fumed on his way towards the dungeons. How he _hated_ that man! '_This time he has gone way too far!'_ He thought angrily. Entering the cold, damp dungeon, he walked rapidly towards the cell of the requested prisoner.

"You," he said harsher than he meant and motioned towards the elleth. "Come here." She looked at her cell-companion, who was still asleep, and then slowly limped towards him, yanking her filthy, bloody, dirty-blonde hair out of her equally filthy, bloody face. "The _master_ of this place desires to see you." He spat out the word master, completely disgusted at what he was doing. He could see that she was in terrible pain and barely able to walk.

She looked at him curiously out of her one good eye, the other swollen and painful, and decided that he didn't appear to be cruel, but he seemed angry and dangerous. She felt no fear towards him, though. Alasseo led the elleth through the dungeon, grasping onto her arm in an effort to help support her almost non-existent weight. He couldn't believe Raumo had let this woman waste-away, especially since she was apparently such an important 'guest.'

The two walked through the dungeon towards the doors and then up the long flight of stairs. Aranel stumbled upwards trying to be strong, but found it to be a very difficult task for one in her condition. She looked over at the man escorting her. She knew he did not want her to think he was helping her in any manner, but she knew he was. And that gave her a seed of hope.

When they reached the top of the stairwell, Alasseo led the tiny she-elf down a decadent hall. As they walked down the hall decorated in ebony doors and mahogany walls, he studied the one next to him. He noticed that one eye was swollen shut and the other had a dark circle underneath it. She was limping and favoring her right leg. He also noticed that the back of her head was bloody as though someone had hit her hard from behind and that her breathing sounded very loud and he guessed that she could not breathe comfortably.

He struggled to control the anger he felt bubbling up inside at her treatment. '_What could she have done to deserve to be treated to cruelly!'_ Thoughts rolled around in his head and he fought to get them back under control. He could not enter Raumo's presence in such a state. Both he and the elleth would be punished. He doubted she could take anymore without dire consequences to her life.

Suddenly, he stopped abruptly and Aranel ran into him. She would have fallen, but he grabbed her before she hit the floor. They had come to a large, intricately carved wooden door. '_He is in here,' _she thought anxiously. '_The man who brought me here; who let this be done to me._' She was terrified to face this man. And when the huge doors swung open, she knew that the cruel robed man before the roaring fire was indeed the man who had brought her there.


	2. Hell Sweet Hell

Hell Sweet Hell

Slowly, Raumo turned; his face illuminated frighteningly by the flames. When he saw the beautiful blonde creature before him, his eyes lit, in spite of her actual appearance, and his smile reminded one of true evil. Flicking his gaze towards the edhel, he said, "Bring her closer, Alasseo. I want a close-up view."

Fury rose in Alasseo's throat, but he knew better and did what he was bid. The poor elleth shivered, though he had no way of knowing if it was caused by cold or fear. He watched as Raumo turned from the fire and walked over to the woman, slowly circling her much like a vulture circles his dead prey.

"She will be quite beautiful once she's cleaned up a bit, don't you think?" As he asked this, his hands were roaming her body and his eyes closely followed his hands as though he were trying to memorize her. They wandered over her breasts, her stomach, her rear, and then, to complete her humiliation, her most private of places. Aranel would have squirmed, but she was too afraid of this man, so she just let her mind go blank.

Without allowing Alasseo any time to answer his question, he continued. "Yes, she'll do quite perfectly in my quest for conquer. Quite perfectly." He turned his gaze from his new prize to his second and ordered him to show her to her new accommodations. "It is in the west tower." Turning back to Aranel, he leaned in closer and whispered in her ear. "I have a great desire for power, my dear one. _You_ have great power." He stopped and ran his tongue from her chin back to her ear; his hand wandering down her waistband. She could feel the nausea rising again and she almost hoped that she would vomit right there on his lovely silk robes, regardless of how humiliating it would be. "You will be of great advantage to me." With that, he motioned for Alasseo to take her away.

Gently taking Aranel by the arm, Alasseo led her out of the room and down the hall towards the west tower. She followed next to the he-elf, Alasseo, quietly. She felt dirty everywhere from the man's touch; dirty, disgusting and violated. No one had ever touched her in that manner before and she had the sinking fear that he would demand more than his touches from her.

As they continued their trek to the west tower, Aranel tried desperately to ignore the powerful shiver she felt overcoming her. She was freezing cold from the wet cell and in excruciating pain as well as angry and, frankly, absolutely terrified. She still had no idea where she was and even less of an idea as to why she was there.

Unfortunately, with every step they took, the more powerful the shaking became until she could no longer hide it from Alasseo. Idly, Aranel wondered if he noticed as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself in an effort to still the trembles. Still, the nausea fought to take control of her again.

In an effort to direct attention away from her uncontrollable shivering, Aranel turned her head to Alasseo and said, "Please, sir." She stopped unsure if he would allow her to speak, and when he didn't seem to object, she continued. "Where is this place? Why am I here?" Her voice was so soft that she barely believed that he had heard her. In spite of the fact that he did not mean her any harm, she was still slightly afraid of Alasseo.

He wondered if she had actually listened to anything Lord Raumo had said in that room. He sighed deeply, completely unhappy about the information he would inevitably need to tell her. "The master of this place believes that you wield some useful power, and he wants it, in any way possible. That is the reason you are here." His voice was gruff, and more so than he would have preferred.

Turning his head slightly, he saw her trying to still her shivering and shoved his cloak into her arms. "Here. I cannot have you falling ill on me." He said it as an excuse; he didn't want her to know he felt pity towards her and anger that she was allowed to become as she was: ill, weak, and beaten. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, though, he mentally slapped himself. _'Elves don't get sick, you idiot!'_ Aranel slowly put the warm cloak around her shaking body and muttered her thanks.

After walking for a few more minutes, they came to a plain wooden door. Alasseo stopped and opened the door, gesturing for Aranel to enter. "This will be your room. His lordship wishes you to be relatively comfortable during your 'stay' here in the hopes of you being more cooperative. If there is anything you desire within reason, pull the cord beside your bed. The attached bell will alert someone that you require something. I will send a healer in to see what can be done about your wounds." As soon as he finished, Alasseo turned on his heel and left the room, but not before securely locking the door, effectively quashing all hopes of escape for Aranel.

Failon rode continuously at a gallop for three miles before he slowed Lírë and Meldi walked up beside them. He pushed his hood back and looked around at his surroundings; shifting uncomfortably in the saddle when he saw that the forest seemed to get darker the closer he went towards his destination. He looked back at the feeling of an approaching shadow, but quickly realized that it was _he_ who was approaching the shadow. He pressed on, however, at a slower pace, not wishing to pass his destination. He had no idea how where in the forest it was and he knew that this forest was large and therefore, it could be anywhere.

Aranel stood in front of the closed door looking around her, trying to take in both her surroundings and what Alasseo had just told her. She was having trouble making anything of his words. _'He's after my power!'_ Her thoughts were frustrated and giving her a headache. A grin slowly spread over her filthy face, though, at Alasseo's comment about her not falling ill. _'Everyone, most especially an elf, knows that elves never became ill.'_

Finally, she made her way over to the bed and sat down on the slightly dusty quilt. Throwing herself back, she thought about how she would escape this place. She quickly realized, though, that without help, she would not be escaping. She became angry; angry at herself for being so afraid, angry at herself for being caught, and the more she thought about _why_ she was here, the angrier she became at this '_Lord'_. The angrier she became, the better she felt. The horrible fear was not been normal for her, but she was sure that she would forever fear this new Lord.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door…more like a banging…which caused her to bolt upright and a tiny woman entered the room, bustling her way over to Aranel, who just sat there in a state of shock.

"Take off your clothes, dear." She continued to sort through her supplies, but looked up when Aranel didn't move. "I need to be able to look at you, dear, to help you." The woman smiled at her and went back to what she had been doing. Aranel slowly stripped off her shredded clothes down to her undergarments. Out of the blue, the little woman stood and turned around, a contrite expression on her face. "How rude of me! My name is Rýn, dear. Let's get you a bath first." She had taken a look at how filthy the she-elf was and decided that there was no way in all of Middle-Earth that she could do anything until she was clean. Rýn went to the door and had a hot bath brought in.

"Aranel," she said softly and sat back down on the bed. When the bath arrived, Rýn made her strip completely and climb in the tub. She left the room saying she would be back in an hour.

Aranel made good use of that hour not only washing off layers of dirt, but scrubbing her skin red and raw where Raumo had touched her. She then climbed out of the tub and found some clean undergarments to put on. She decided against dressing anymore than that because she knew the healing woman would tell her to remove it.

When she returned, Rýn bustled over to her and had her lay down. She spent the next twenty minutes poking and prodding, putting salve on this wound and ointment on that cut. Aranel lay quietly, until the healer touched her severely injured leg. She hissed loudly in pain and yanked her leg back. Rýn looked at her questioningly and asked, "What happened to your leg?" When Aranel looked as though she was going to refuse to answer, she said, "Don't lie to me, dear. I am well aware that you were tortured down there. Did they crush it?"

Knowing that avoiding an answer or lying would get her nowhere, she nodded her head. The tiny woman then proceeded to slather on some salve and wrap her leg tightly in a splint and some cloth. After her leg was taken care of, Rýn sat Aranel in a chair and proceeded to clean her head wound. Aranel winced, but the pain was not too great for the wound had healed a bit and there seemed to be no infection.

"I am surprised he let them touch you, let alone hurt you." Rýn spoke conversationally, but more to herself than to Aranel. When she was finished with the head wound, she spoke again. "If you ever need me, just ask someone to fetch me, dear. Good luck." And then she was gone.

Immediately after leaving the elleth in her chambers, Alasseo went to his own quarters to think. Fuming, he stalked back and forth around the sitting area. When a servant came to see if he needed anything, he had snarled at them and he hadn't heard so much as a sigh from another servant since.

Slowly, he calmed enough to think rationally. He forced himself to see this as an opportunity. _I know she is of importance to the princes of Mirkwood. A sister of sorts, I believe. _This gave him hope that they would send someone to rescue her; he did not think them foolish enough to leave Mirkwood when Raumo was already causing problems there. _Besides, Raumo and any of his men would recognize them immediately._ Perhaps this would be his opportunity to leave Raumo's shadow and leave this accursed castle forever. Sitting himself down in a chair in front of the fire, he let his thoughts stew. He knew this would take very careful planning, but his lips slowly curved up into a smile as an idea formed in his mind.

Finally finding a solution to the problem, he leaned back in the chair calling for one of his servants. When one finally scuttled over, he told them he wanted wine brought up to him; the best one in the wine closet. The terror on the small girls face faded when he asked politely and she walked quickly out of the room. Alasseo leaned back in the chair, huffed out a breath, and relaxed.

Aranel sat down on the bed again when the healer had gone. She wondered what would happen to the edhel she had shared a cell with. After a brief knock on the bedroom door, a servant entered and gave her a nightgown. As she was leaving, Aranel stopped her by asking about Erundil.

After a brief moment of silence, she answered curtly. "He is gone. You will not see him again." She then walked towards the door.

"What do you me-" She was cut off before she could finish, though, as the woman continued to the door and left without even looking back. _Gone! What the hell did she mean **gone**!_

Aranel changed into the nightgown and lay down to rest. Sleep gracefully eluded her, however. Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was the Lord of the castle. He touched her in ways only one's beloved should and when she saw him she had to force herself awake. He terrified her even in her dreams when he could not harm her.

Finally, she slipped into a shallow, restless sleep.

Failon rode on late into the night and as he went on, the feeling of despair became almost overwhelming. Fear shivered through him, but he shrugged it off, knowing that others had it worse and he needed to stay on his guard.

A rustle of dry leaves jolted him out of his silent reflection and he gripped the hilt of his sword. Sliding down Lírë's side, he drew Naira and landed firmly on the ground, poised to attack. As he looked around in the dim light, he saw two rather large cloaked figures approaching slowly on both sides. Quickly, he threw off his cloak, while Lírë nervously pawed the ground and then moved a few feet away. Meldi stayed by his side, though, and watched as the attackers chose to come on full force together.

Failon had known they would do this, though, and kicked the first man to the ground, then fiercely attacked the other. The man he had kicked stood up and came around, his sword positioned to hack off the legs of anyone unlucky enough to get in the way. Failon punched the second man in the chest and swung Naira at the first. He then followed up by kicking the second man in the gut, grinning when he fell dramatically to the ground. The first man came swinging back and Failon had to jump out of the way because he wasn't able to get his sword up in enough time to block the attack to his head.

Meldi drew a chuckle from Failon when he trotted over to the second man and elegantly kicked him in the face with his back hoof. The wizard attempted to stab at the first attacker, but was blocked therefore stabbing the man in the arm. The foolish man dropped his sword and grabbed his bleeding arm, only to be kicked to the ground with Failon's left foot pressing down heavily on his chest.

When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous. "Who do you work for?"

The man stayed silent, however, trying to apply pressure to his bleeding arm and trying to squirm out from under Failon's heavy foot. Failon leaned forward, increasing the pressure on the poor man's chest. "Who?" He demanded and the man finally gave in.

At first, the man's mouth flapped open and closed for a moment bringing to mind a fish out of water. Then he spoke, "Lord Raumo." He was struggling to get breath and Failon decided to humor him and removed his foot. Turning to jump onto Lírë's back, he stopped and turned back around.

"Where is it?" As before, his voice was low and dangerous.

"Where is what?" The first man had an expression of confusion of his face.

"His castle, you moronic git."

"About one weeks ride in that direction." He pointed southeast.

Failon smiled slightly and re-sheathed Naira. "Good man. Now, your friend here seems to have taken a hard hit to the head and is knocked out. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he finds he has fewer teeth in his mouth and a broken nose. If you stay out of my way, I will not cause him or you anymore damage."

"My brother. He is my brother." Failon said nothing, only raised his eyebrows.

"Well then. Next time, chose someone other than a Dark Lord to work for. I would appreciate it if you left here and never returned." The man sat up on the ground and nodded, wrapping his arm in his tunic and crawling over next to his brother.

Failon hopped onto Lírë's back and left at a fast pace in the direction the man had pointed. He cooed praises to Meldi, but quickly turned silent.

After another hour of travel, Failon stopped Lírë and dismounted. Unsaddling her and removing the packs from Meldi's back, he set up camp. After eating a quick meal, he settled in for the night. He knew that if any trouble came along, his horses would alert him.

Rolling his cloak up and putting it under his head, he quickly drifted off into sleep. He slept restlessly, tossing and turning, dreaming terrible dreams. He dreamed of Raumo's army taking Mirkwood Palace and killing the royal family. He dreamed of Raumo raping and torturing Aranel over and over. He dreamed of having to return to Mirkwood with her body; having to tell Legolas that there was nothing he could do.

In the middle of the night, Lírë came and lay down on one side of him and Meldi lay down on the other side. Failon finally slept calmly between their comforting warmth.

When he woke at first light, he ate a quick breakfast of dried meat and cheese. Loading Meldi with the packs and then quickly tacking Lírë. Jumping on her back, they left at a fast trot.

Aranel was woken by the light of day after hours of almost non-existent sleep. When she wearily opened her eyes, though, she let out a shriek, for inches from her face was a male, Alasseo actually, looking at her with well-masked concern on his face.

Once she had gotten back her breath, she studied him. She wondered why he obeyed Raumo, but seemed to hate the man at the same time. No matter how she tried, she couldn't decide how she felt about him.

Turning from her, he indicated a small pile of clothing on the small table in the sitting area and said, "You are to put those on. Lord Raumo wishes to see you." And he was gone.

Throwing off the covers, Aranel climbed out of bed and walked over to the clothing on the chair. Her eyes went wide and she shook at what she found. All were indecent for a lady of her status, or any but a very rich whore. There were thin, translucent, lacy undergarments and a royal purple thin silk gown. Putting them on, the gown reached to the floor, but clung to every curve and dipped horribly low over her breasts, leaving little to the imagination.

When she heard the knock on the door, she jumped and frantically looked for something to wrap around herself, but found nothing. Lord Raumo entered the room, a predatorial look upon his face; a look that reminded her of a big cat stalking its prey. He walked directly over to her, grabbing her arms and kissing her hard. She tried to fight him off, but he held her tighter, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Then just as suddenly as it began, it ended and he squeezed her breast and pulled away.

"Let us take this to my rooms." She could see the lust in his eyes and hear the huskiness in his voice. Aranel wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball in the corner and die. They then left the room, despite her pulling against him, and he practically dragged her towards his quarters.

When they arrived, he proceeded to kiss and nip along her face and neck. All the while, his hands were roaming her body, taking it as his own. She tried to fight him, but he was bigger than her, stronger than her. He quickly overpowered her and pushed her onto the bed, his body pressing her into the soft mattress. He continued his unwanted ministrations, slowly making his way down, for a few more minutes.

When he pulled off her underwear, she cried out and again tried to fight him off. Again, he overpowered her. He smiled at her and told her not to worry.

"I will take care of you. Enjoy this." She squirmed beneath him, inevitably rubbing against him, and his eyes darkened more with lust. "I know I'm going to enjoy it."

After leaving Aranel's quarters, Alasseo left the castle and went on patrol. He rarely went out with his men and they were surprised to see him. He couldn't remain in the same building as Raumo when he knew what would be occurring, though. It made him sick that he would use the poor elleth in such a manner.

"Where are we patrolling today?"

"Southern border, sir." The commander was a middle-aged man, who was well-liked by his men. "Let's move out, men!" They began the thirty minute trudge towards the southern border, where they would be patrolling for five days.


	3. These Tears We Cry

These Tears We Cry

Aranel lay in the luxurious bed sleeping comfortably. Lord Raumo had his arms wrapped around her from behind, thoroughly sated. He had raped her multiple times, though he didn't see it that way as she had eventually felt pleasure when she had given up fighting.

Rolling over, she cuddled close to his chest. She was dreaming pleasantly, and, therefore, not of Raumo. She was dreaming of a man with sapphire eyes and chestnut brown hair. Shivering slightly in her sleep, she saw herself give up her immortality for love. Aranel cuddled even closer to Raumo, seeking after comfort and warmth.

Slowly, she woke to the rough kissing of Raumo and realizing both her location and state of (un)dress, jumped up and promptly rolled onto the floor with a small thud.

Rubbing her rear-end a little, she turned wide-eyed towards the man sitting naked on the bed, his arousal quite obvious. "_Why_ am I here?" Defiance made its way into her voice. "What power do I have that _you_ so desire?" Anger rose in her throat and she fought to keep it at bay.

Raumo stood and walked over to her, perfectly comfortable with his nakedness, while she tried to hide hers. "The future, my little one." His voice was soft and soothing, or so it was meant to be.

Trying to convince him otherwise, she spoke softly, "I have no idea what you are talking about, my lord." Her eyes betrayed her, though, revealing both her fear and her secret.

Raumo looked at her with a contemplative look for a brief moment and then smiled. "Do not lie, lovely one. I know that you see what the future may be in your dreams." His voice was silky and his hands cruised over her skin. Putting his hands under her knees, he lifted her off the ground, regardless of her struggling, and dropped her, quite literally, back on the bed. When she began to fight him more violently than she previously had, he swiftly hit her hard on the head, knocking her out, blood trickling from the wound. He took great pleasure in ravishing her limp body.

Failon had stopped only once late in the afternoon to give the black mare a short rest and to give himself a chance to eat a fast meal and have a brief rest. Meldi caught up to them then and Failon removed his packs, so that the brown horse could relax a little.

After about an hour, he put the packs back on Meldi and re-tacked Lírë. Mounting his mare, he nudged her into a fast canter with Meldi following close behind.

The wizard rode Lírë at a fast canter late into the night. Meldi followed behind at a slower pace. When he felt Lírë tiring, he slowed her to a walk and then stopped her at a likely campsite. Unpacking, he followed the same process he had the last two nights. And much like the last two nights, he slept restlessly and dreamed of terrible things until his horses lay down beside him.

Finally, Lord Raumo carried Aranel back to her room and dropped her ungracefully on her bed. She cried out in pain, but the dark lord could not have cared less and left the room. She roused herself out of sleep enough to change into a clean nightgown and out of the clothes she had worn that day, which stunk of sex and were a little bloody.

Stumbling back to the bed, she fell asleep as soon her head hit the pillow. Her entire body hurt, though from her waist down hurt most. She tossed and turned throughout the night, dreaming of Raumo touching her and hurting her.

In the middle of the night, she bolted upright in the bed. She was soaked with sweat and shaking. Making her way to the bathroom, she grabbed another nightgown. Once in the bathroom, she washed herself and put on the clean clothing.

Alasseo and his men reached the southern border uneventfully. Once, there a patrol schedule was set up and Callon set out on first watch. He walked through the dark forest keeping alert for intruders, while thinking about Raumo.

"I can't believe him," he muttered to himself. "Not only does he drag that poor elleth off because he's power hungry, but he has the gall to bed her…against her will, I'm sure." Letting out a loud yell, he kicked the nearest tree, drawing the attention of one of the nearby soldiers.

"My lord, is something wrong?"

All he received was a dark look that sent him quickly back to patrolling. Alasseo went back to watching and fuming. When dusk fell, the patrols changed and he returned to the main camp to sleep through the night.

When she came back out, Aranel climbed into bed again. This time when she slept, she had peaceful dreams. She dreamed of the sapphire eyed man again. He was kind and sweet and held her safely in his arms. She didn't know who he was, but she knew he was a wizard by the white staff with the sapphire on top that he kept close by. She felt safe with the man in her dreams.

She saw her parents and her sister, before they traveled west. She dreamed of the time she had gone on a picnic to see her father at the borders when he had been on patrol. Her mother had gone and her sister, her older brother and even her twin brothers had gone. They had had a wonderful afternoon.

Then her dreams changed. She saw Legolas pacing back and forth talking to the wizard from before and she frowned in her sleep. Legolas was upset and then the blue eyed man appeared on horseback bidding farewell to the princes of Mirkwood. She did not know what was said, though. She turned over in the bed, twisting the sheets around her body.

Again, her dreams changed and she saw a dark army invading Mirkwood. She could hear the cries of the people as they were killed. The sky was blood red as were the river and the ground. She flipped back over in the bed again cocooning herself in the sheets even more. She screamed, though, when she saw the five heads on pikes; five heads which she recognized immediately, King Thranduil, Prince Anárion, Prince Óron, Prince Legolas, and Prince Elhael.

Aranel again woke up sweating and fighting her way out of the sheets. She wasn't sure how many more times she could handle seeing that vision. Seeing that the sun would soon be up, she went over the sitting area and with a sigh, began to read the book that was sitting on the chair. She knew if she tried to sleep, she would only see more terrifying images.

Lord Raumo sat in his sitting room late into the night contemplating how he was going to overtake Mirkwood. As he was slipping off into sleep, he decided that his best option was to get an agent in as though he were one of them; someone who would gain the trust of the king and his sons and who could…no, would relay all important information back to him.

Satisfied that he had found a beginning of a solution to his problem, Raumo rose from the chair. As he walked towards his bed, he stripped off his clothes. He slept well that night; thoroughly sated by both his solution and the woman he had 'bedded' that afternoon.

With a horse sleeping quietly on either side of him, Failon dreamed peacefully of soft touches and gentle caresses. He dreamed of velvet skin and silky hair and honeyed eyes. In all his time on Middle-Earth, he had never had any such thing and, even in his dream, he knew that when he met this woman, he would be lost forever. He shifted in his sleep at this realization, but settled quickly. Meldi and Lírë snorted and whickered softly, delicately shifting around the man between them.

After sleeping quietly for a few more hours, Failon awoke to a silky nose snuffling in his face. He chuckled and pushed Meldi away. The horse returned to eating the green grass around them. Remembering his dream that night, he shook away the guilt. There was nothing wrong with thinking about a woman when he was supposed to be saving another for his best friend. Gods! How he missed the feel of a woman and scent of a woman.

Aranel carefully studied the ancient map of the forest she had found in the bookcase in her room. She memorized every detail, no matter how insignificant it may have seemed. She was determined to get away.

Her entire body still ached and she wondered if he would hurt her this much every time. She hoped, though, that he would get tired of her and just leave her be. That was doubtful, however.

Days passed for Aranel in much the same manner as the first few had. Raumo would come to her room after he had eaten his morning meal most days. He would drag her to his bed and rape her over and over. Her body never became used to his violence, but her heart lost all will to fight. After a few days, she stopped fighting him when he came for her, but when she stopped fighting in the bedroom, he beat her even worse. Raumo made no move to "gain her power," either.

Alasseo spent the next few days putting his plan into action. He had to be extremely careful, so as not to get caught by anyone. All the castles inhabitants were so afraid of 'Lord' Raumo that any tiny indication that he was doing something out of the ordinary would immediately be reported to him.

Failon made his way towards the stronghold. Every night, he would dream fretfully until the horses lay down beside him and then he would dream of the beautiful woman. Each night, he became more enchanted by her.


End file.
